


Vanilla

by jasmasson



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: salt_burn_porn, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-15
Updated: 2010-03-15
Packaged: 2017-10-15 14:03:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasmasson/pseuds/jasmasson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One thing Sam absolutely knew about Dean was that he was vanilla.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vanilla

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://community.livejournal.com/salt_burn_porn/profile)[**salt_burn_porn**](http://community.livejournal.com/salt_burn_porn/) for [](http://deirdre-c.livejournal.com/profile)[**deirdre_c**](http://deirdre-c.livejournal.com/)'s prompt _there’s a lot you don’t know about me_.

***

[](http://s200.photobucket.com/albums/aa8/jasmasson/?action=view&current=r4jasmassonnc17pwprunnerup.jpg)   


***  
One thing Sam absolutely knew about Dean, was that he was vanilla.

Sam knew more about Dean’s porn habits growing up than he’d been _at all_ comfortable with at the time. Sam’s first porn had been Dean’s _old_ porn.

Although he’d found the _Playboy_ ridiculously exciting at the time (as his two minute climax time attested), as he’d gotten older he’d realized how very bland it was.

Give Dean a pair of breasts – or better still two pairs – and he was a happy man. Sam had seen countless iterations of the same beautiful, busty women, and a little standard girl-on-girl action was as risqué as it got.

It was possible, of course, that Dean had kinkier tastes and just hadn’t bought any porn for them in case Sam or Dad would see it. There was absolutely no possibility of Dean having kept anything other than plain old vanilla porn as Sam had never seen it and their lifestyle didn’t allow for secret possessions. Dean was also a lot less computer savvy than Sam, and there was no way he’d be able to hide his tracks on Sam’s laptop – even if he’d tried, which, from the frequency of Busty Asian Beauties et al sitting shamelessly in the laptop history, he did not.

Sam had been a lot older the time he’d got his first fetish magazine, but he’d taken about two minutes to come again like he had at his first sight of naked boobs five years earlier. Sam... was _not_ vanilla.

Sam liked that Dean was vanilla, though, he found it endearing that Dean was a man of simple tastes – basic t&a porn, pie, cheeseburgers and cock rock making Dean happy like a little kid.

He liked that simple things made Dean happy. When he’d been at Stanford, trying to get as far away from his father and brother as he could, if he was honest it had made him feel superior, like any teenager liked to feel superior. When he’d been at sex shops with Jess, he’d felt the same rush of _not like them_ that he’d had sipping a decaf skinny mocha latte or eating sushi, knowing that Dean would view an enema kit or a buttplug with the same bemused suspicion that he’d view makizushi.

Now, though. Now he was glad, so glad, that little, simple things made Dean happy because there was a chance that Dean might find it easier to be happy after this clusterfuck of an apocalypse was over, which Sam needed desperately to believe.

He was pretty surprised then, to find _those_ sort of sites he _knew_ he hadn’t been on in the laptop’s history.

And they weren’t sites you could accidentally stray onto – like a water sports site looking for something else – although Sam was pretty sure mothers only swallowed that type of excuse the world over because of how much they really, really _wanted_ to believe – because the site “Spanking Bare Butts” just wasn’t open to interpretation.

Dean clearly had developed some interesting tastes – unless the laptop was possessed by a kinky ghost, which in Sam’s life could not be entirely ruled out.

There were guys and girls on the site, but as Sam clicked the linked through, he found more for men than women. Sam’s dick was rock hard in his jeans as he imagined Dean sitting watching the scenes, mouth open, eyes wide and dick in his hand.

Sam had always wondered exactly how bi Dean was – he’d never even looked at another guy other than Sam as far as Sam knew, and he was certain Dean had never been with another guy before Sam.

The first blowjob Dean had ever given him had been clumsy and tentative, but Sam had barely surpassed that embarrassing two minute mark again, because Dean’s _mouth_ , his pretty pink pouty _mouth_ , had been near Sam’s _dick_. So sue him.

Sam reached into his pants and pulled out his cock, eyes glued to the scene on the screen, the scene _Dean_ had watched.

Sam watched, biting his lip.

He imagined Dean over his lap. But wait. Rewind. How would he get Dean over his knees?

He pictured Dean like the guy in the scene, blushing and biting his lip. The image of Dean biting his lip caused a momentary spark, but, no. That was wrong.

  
Dean might go ass up, but he’d be challenging, not shy, _you man enough, Sammy?_ , pushing Sam’s buttons.

Sam pictured himself sitting on one of the beds and grabbing Dean’s wrists and forcefully pulling him over. He’d get both Dean’s wrists in one hand – his hand was big enough, so long as Dean wasn’t _actually_ trying to get away – and pull them behind his back.

He’d jerk Dean’s jeans down, baring his ass. Dean had mostly be eschewing underwear since they’d got together, so Sam would have instant access to warm, smooth skin.

Dean would squirm a little under Sam’s hand when Sam ran his hand over his ass, but he’d buck up into Sam’s caress, responsive and sensual as always.

Sam would start easy, a smack to one cheek, right in the center, making Dean gasp, and then his handprint would blossom over Dean’s skin. Marking the flesh red and hot and _Sam’s_.

Sam would spank harder, enjoying Dean’s gasping reactions, instinctive squirming and soft moans.

Dean’s jeans would be down around his knees, and Sam would spank his tender thighs, too, making his curse and squirm.

Dean would writhe over Sam’s lap, his perfect, hot, round ass dancing.

Dean would hump Sam’s thighs, his dick hard and ready as Sam held him down and spanked his ass red and sore.

Sam would recognise, and delight in, Dean’s noises, his little cries, and stop just before Dean came over his lap.

Then he’d let go of Dean’s wrists and ease him off his lap onto the floor, on his knees.

Dean would be panting, face flushed and lips swollen pink and wet where he’d been biting them. His jeans would still be round his knees and his cock would straining – hard and leaking.

“Get your ass up on the bed,” Sam would say, and this time Dean _would_ go easy, scrambling up and getting on his hands and knees; red, naked ass up.

Sam would push Dean’s knees apart as far as they could go with the jeans still around them, so he could see Dean’s hole between his spanked cheeks; tight and waiting.

Sam would free his dick – God, finally – and get on the bed behind him, pulling the lube from the drawer in the nightstand. He’d be too desperate to do anything but rub it quickly over his cock and then push two fingers roughly into Dean causing him to hiss and buck.

Sam would stretch him quick and rough before pushing between Dean’s spread thighs, letting the rough denim of his jeans rub up against Dean’s sore skin.

He’d sink into Dean’s hot ass, groaning as Dean opened tight and hot around his aching dick.

He’d hold onto Dean’s hips, holding them tight, deliberately bruising, rubbing his thumbs over Dean’s hot, spanked ass as he fucked him hard and fast.

Dean would shift and go to free one of his hands to grasp his cock, but Sam would stop him with a _no_ and a hard spank to his ass. He’d tell him to grab the headboard instead, and Dean would obey, holding on white-knuckled, leaving his dick aching and untouched between his thighs as Sam fucked him ruthlessly.

Sam would come (probably earlier than he’d like to think) in Dean’s ass, groaning and biting his lips to keep from saying too much, that Dean could tease him about later.

Dean wouldn’t be teasing him now, though, shivering and shaking under Sam as Sam pulled out, leaving Dean’s asshole slick and swollen between his spanked cheeks.

Sam would push his fingers in the tight, wet heat, while Dean clenched and shuddered on his probing fingers.

Sam would pull Dean up and over onto his back, and then push his fingers back in again, working Dean as he told him to jerk himself off.

Dean would instantly grab his dick, riding Sam’s fingers in his well-fucked ass, and shudder apart within minutes, shaking and biting his lip.

***

Sam hadn’t had time to bask long in the afterglow before the door opened and Dean came in carrying a bag of take-out.

There was a moment of silence, punctuated by the _smack_ of leather on bare flesh from computer until Sam jerked into action zipping up his pants and closing the laptop.

“Awkward,” Dean said, shrugging and putting the take-out down. But his face was flushed, and Sam could see a bulge in his pants.

“Hey, Dean...” Sam began, heart beating fast.

***

If you're moved to comment - and if you are you have my eternal gratitude - please feel free to comment here or on [this fic at livejournal where it was originally posted ](http://jasmasson.livejournal.com/133852.html) as you prefer.


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